


The Boundless Burnt Breakfast Dilemma

by Thedaggerthoo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And is kinda mean to all of Harry's dates, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Comedy, Draco has the biggest crush, Draco is definitely undeniably straight, Draco is sassy, Harry cant stop touching Draco, Jealous Draco Malfoy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Or is he?!?!?, Oral, Rimming, Roommates, Top Harry, Wholesome, harry is a terrible cook, harry sleeps around, i guess. I mean one comment said they thought it was funny so it's now a comedy B)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23629864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thedaggerthoo/pseuds/Thedaggerthoo
Summary: Harry would not stop burning his dates' breakfast.And Draco would not stop insulting Harry's dates.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 118
Kudos: 902





	1. The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I just finished writing Collecting Rent and have really missed being able to write fics about these two boys.
> 
> So, I have created this fic, The Boundless Burnt Breakfast Dilemna to quench my writing thirst. Anyways, I plan this fic should end up at about 20,000 words in total as long as everything goes to plan.
> 
> Here is the first chapter, I hope you enjoy! :)

Draco stirred awake to the smell of obscenely crisp bacon.

This always meant only one thing: Harry had another one of his boy toys round.

Draco’s stomach turned at the thought. Whilst there were definite positives to having Harry Potter as a roommate, one of the biggest downsides was his endless amount of romantic endeavours.

Draco groaned into his pillow.

The smell was getting more grotesque by the second, and when the incessant bleeping of the fire alarm started to sound, he tried to block it off by covering his ears with a plump, silk pillow.

He debated waking up and going to the kitchen, to show Harry how to cook bacon for the fiftieth time that year or casting a silencing spell on his door and burning to death.

It always happened like this, Harry would tell Draco he was going on a date with a new guy, Draco would feign disinterest and carry on reading his newspaper, nonchalantly taking a bite of his evenly buttered toast. Then Harry would leave at about six pm, only to return at one in the morning with some blond bimbo on his elbow, then shag them senseless in the room next door. Luckily, last night Draco had slept through the whole affair, going to bed early in hopes that he would. Afterwards, Harry (being the gentleman that he is) would always make his date some breakfast -which he would burn beyond belief- only for Draco to go to the kitchen to make breakfast for them instead.

There was no point in getting angry at Harry anymore, he wasn’t going to change, but sometimes Draco swore that he was either the dumbest man alive or was burning the breakfast on purpose.

He chucked his long legs out of the bed, groaning when they got tangled in the sheets. The fire alarm was even louder now that he had the pillow off his ears. Normally Harry would’ve used magic to disable the fire alarm by this point, but as he hadn’t, Draco could only assume Harry had brought back a muggle man.

Which Draco had no problem with _-obviously_ \- he wasn’t a young boy indoctrinated by his Father’s views anymore, but the prospect of leaving his wand in his room and making breakfast the muggle way was mildly infuriating.

He strolled out of his room into the kitchen, not caring that he hadn’t put a T-shirt on before arriving (he had been working out recently anyways, he was quite proud of his midriff now – there was no shame in showing it off to Harry’s date).

Because it _was_ Harry’s _date_ that he was trying to impress. Not _Harry_. _No, no, no,_ that would be ridiculous, _wouldn’t it?_ Draco Malfoy trying to impress Harry Potter with his toned midriff. How _ridiculous!_

Draco laughed at the thought.

Okay, maybe he was trying to impress Harry, j _ust a little bit_. But not in a gay way _(you must understand)_. Draco was trying to show off in a one-hundred-percent heterosexual way. Nothing more than establishing dominance. Because Draco was straight. Very, _very_ straight.

Once he walked through the door frame to the kitchen, the picture was absolutely laughable.

Harry was stood on the table, with a fly swatter in hand, vigorously hitting the alarm over and over again, smoke billowing up from the stove. His date was sat on one of the table’s chairs with his mouth dropped open in horror as his head flicked between Harry and the stove, which was mere seconds away from bursting into flames.

“Again, Harry?” Draco announced his entrance, both men shooting their heads over to him in a panicked speed.

“Oh, thank Merlin! Draco, please come turn this off!”

Draco walked up to the table and used one of the chairs as a leg up, until he was stood on the cloth. He’d expected Harry to move away once he’d mounted the table, but instead Harry stood directly underneath the alarm still, forcing Draco to step right next to Harry, chest-pressed to chest as he reached his arm around him and pressed the small red button to turn it off.

When the alarm stopped, he almost lost his breath for a few seconds when he saw quite how close Harry was. Draco’s arm dropped down from the alarm to his side, but Harry still remained in place, his eyes looking down to Draco’s nude chest pressed against his.

“Thanks Draco.”

He finally pulled away and stepped back to look at his bamboozled date.

“Sorry about that, Tom.”

That was another thing about Harry. He had a real problem with proximity. He was constantly dropping little, tiny touches across Draco’s body, like rubbing his shoulder or hooking his thumb through a belt loop or pocket. Draco was quite embarrassed at how much the little touches affected him at times. Merlin, he was such a pervert.

He dragged himself off of the table, so he was back on the floor.

“Harry, turn that stove off.”

Now Draco could see Harry’s chosen prey for the night.

He was quite young, younger than most Harry had round, with a beacon of bright blond hair from his head. But now Draco looked closer, he could see that the blond was fake, small brown roots were beginning to form at his scalp. Draco couldn’t blame him for the bleaching, blond was a beautiful colour after all. The rest of him was fairly normal, he had no standout features, he just looked like a normal guy, really.

Draco rolled his eyes and turned away from the man.

“Now, Harry, I’ve showed you about a billion times how to make bacon.” Draco moaned, walking over to stand next to Harry at the stove. He picked the burnt-black frying pan up by the handle and shuffled it over to the sink, turning on the taps to let it soak. Immediately smoke shot up from the pan. “So, for next time, can you get it through your thick skull that you need to stop cooking breakfast without help.”

Sometimes Draco wondered how he knew more about muggle life than Harry. Draco had prized himself on quite how self-sufficient he was. After the war, he couldn’t bear to live in the Mansion off of Lucius’ money, the idea of that almost made him sick. So, he’d left them and moved into the muggle centre of London. It’s taken a long time – and a lot of confusing trips on the underground – but he’d eventually adjusted. Harry, however, was useless at living on his own. He burnt just about everything; Draco was sure that Harry would be dead by now without him.

It did make Draco think sometimes, though. Harry had told him that he used to make the Dursleys breakfast every morning, sometimes even preparing full meals. But when Draco asked Harry why he had no idea how to cook breakfast now, Harry had just said that he’d forgotten how to. Which had sounded fairly suspicious at the time, but if Draco thought about it – why else would Harry be burning his breakfast every single time he had a date over? He probably had just forgotten.

“You would think that you would’ve retained perhaps even a gram of what I’ve taught you over all this time.” Draco continued, grabbing a new frying pan from the cupboard and turning the heat up. “But alas, your utter stupidity amazes me, even after two years of living with you.” When he popped the pan down on the stove, he felt the hard length of Harry’s thigh pressed lightly up against his.

There it was again, one of Harry’s small, little touches.

Draco cleared his throat.

“Why don’t you go sit down with your _date_.” Draco spat. He didn’t quite know why he’d said it like that, it’s not like he was _jealous_ or anything.

“But I want to learn.” The soft pad of Harry’s thumb brushed over the V of Draco’s hips.

He gulped.

“Well, you obviously don’t, because otherwise, we wouldn’t be in this situation _again_.”

“I guess I’ll just let you cook then.” Harry had this stupid smirk on his deep pink lips, a stupid lopsided tug of his mouth. It made Draco’s legs quiver.

“Are you just going to stand there or take a seat?” Harry’s smile shifted from a smirk to a full-on grin, reaching all the way up to his eyes. As Harry walked away, Draco felt the pad of his thumb brush over the small of Draco’s back.

When Draco moved over to the fridge to pull out the bacon, he heard the high pitched, grating voice of Harry’s date (Tim, was it?) start talking.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you weren’t single.” He squeaked to Harry. Draco whipped his head around to face him, a sneer on his lips.

“What do you mean?” He strolled to the stove, mildly proud at how his sneer made Tim look down to the table.

“I just… Are you not… A couple?”

“What! No! of course not. Why would you ask such a silly question?” Draco’s sneer deepened, he hoped the small blush he felt on his cheeks wasn’t noticeable. “I’m straight, for your information.”

Tim withered against the table.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. It’s just that you two acted so…”

“So…What?”

“Leave him alone Draco.” Harry came to his defence, wrapping one arm around Tim’s shoulders.

Draco was sure he was shooting daggers with his glare at this point. He swivelled back around to the stove.

“Sorry, Tim.” He mumbled, not meaning it in the slightest.

“Uh… It’s Tom.”

Draco continued to glare as he laid down the bacon, the sizzle not soothing him in the slightest.

“And you think I care, because…?”

Draco knew he was being an arsehole, but he always was.

“Sorry, Harry. I don’t feel very welcome here… I think I should go.” Tim spoke up.

So, the little menace was a little baby as well.

_Harry was far too good for him._

“Are you sure?” Harry asked.

_He was so kind._

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll show you out.”

Harry stood and lead him over to the door; Draco strained his ears to hear the conversation.

“Can we meet up again?” Tim asked. Draco felt his blood boil.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What. Why not? I thought we really got along.”

“Yeah… I just didn’t feel a spark, I’m sorry.”

There was a strained silence, Draco wasn’t sure if they were whispering or if Tim had left.

“Is this all because of your prissy friend over there?”

“No…” He paused “And don’t call him that.”

“Fine. I don’t care anyways. I’ll leave you with your weird, totally-not-straight friend in peace.”

Draco heard the door slam.

_Totally not straight._

What was that supposed to mean?

Draco was _totally straight._

He felt a small prickle of guilt when he saw Harry round the corner with hunched shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” He wasn’t, “I should’ve been nicer.”

Harry moped around for a second before taking a seat at the table and picking up the newspaper.

“It’s fine. He was a bit of a twat anyways. Terrible in bed.”

Draco felt his legs shake.

“Oh?” Draco replied, not trusting his voice to speak.

“Yeah, he just lied there and expected me to give it to him the whole time.”

Draco shifted where he was standing. After the date, Harry would always inform Draco whether his bed partner was any good or not. Draco couldn’t recall a single one that had met Harry’s standards so far.

“I mean, I still fucked him within an inch of his life, sure. But I prefer someone who actually puts some effort in ya’know.”

“Mmmhmm.” Draco replied, trying not to let the image of Harry fucking him into his mind. For only a moment, Draco couldn’t help himself and imagined Harry fully sheathed inside of him, but the image was ruined when he pictured Tim in place of himself.

He shook his head. _This was definitely not a heterosexual train of thought._

“Oh well. I’ve got another date tonight. Hopefully he’s alright.”

“Another date! Already?” Draco turned to face Harry, flipping the bacon. “Were you already planning for this one to go badly?”

“Honestly, yeah. He’s too feminine for me really, I much prefer someone with a bit more… fight.” Draco turned back to the stove with a blush when Harry’s eyes dropped down to Draco’s chest. “Why haven’t you got a shirt on, anyways?”

Draco felt his blush deepen.

“I was in a bit of a rush to come help you turn the alarm off.” He hoped the excuse wasn’t obviously fake, and by Harry’s silence, he presumed it was believable.

“You look nice.” Harry complemented. “That gym really has been doing you wonders.”

Draco absentmindedly rested his hand on his midriff.

“I would hope so, I spend enough of my time there.”

Draco reached into the bread bin and pulled four slices out, buttering them on two plates.

“What do you do there?”

When Draco glanced over to Harry, he saw that his eyes were still rested on Draco’s body.

Under the scrutiny of Harry’s gaze, Draco felt so exposed he almost regretted not putting a shirt on. He turned away slightly again, hating how his body responded to Harry’s eyes.

Harry was obviously just checking him out in an admiring, man-to-man way. There was nothing gay about it.

Draco plonked the golden bacon down onto the bread, closing the two bacon sandwiches and turning off the stove.

“I use the rowing machine a lot. Alex has been trying to get me to use the weights.”

“Who’s Alex?”

“He’s just one of the instructors. I work out with him sometimes; he’s got _great_ thighs, practically every day is leg day for him.”

Draco took the two plates over to the table and placed one in front of Harry and the other in his own space. Draco chuckled at Harry’s expression.

“What did the sandwich ever do to you?” Draco asked, Harry was glaring daggers at the sandwich. Maybe it’s because he’d used wholemeal bread instead of white. Harry liked white bread.

“Nothing.”

They ate the rest of their breakfast in a lull of conversation until Harry left to put on his Auror uniform and leave.

A few minutes later, Draco went down to his café to collect a new delivery of coffee beans.

Shortly after moving to muggle London, Draco had discovered a love for coffee and used the last off the money his Father offered him to buy a quaint, little coffee shop.

And he loved nothing more than mornings spent looking out of the foggy windows with a cup of coffee, calculating his finances.

-

**_WIZARDING STOCK MARKET DROPS_ **

Draco furrowed his brows at the Daily Prophet, apparently the pricing of standard ingredients had skyrocketed within the past two weeks, causing a plummet in the production of sleeping draught potions and poison antidote. _How interesting._

Draco’s leisurely reading was soon interrupted by the loud sound of laughter from the door. It was a surprisingly masculine sound, a rumble deep in someone’s chest.

Draco turned to look at Harry’s latest chosen prey. He was the complete opposite of Tim. He was taller than Harry (he looked like he could be a famous basketball player for Merlin’s sake), with washboard abs on his stomach, his hands were huge, and his teeth were perfectly aligned in a bright, straight smile. The only thing that never changed between Harry’s toy boys was the beam of blond hair, although this head was more sandy now that Draco looked.

“Hey Draco, this is Andy.”

Hmm… _Andy is a very heterosexual name_. How strange.

“Hi.” Draco said coldly, diverting his gaze back to the Daily Prophet.

“Draco, can you put that newspaper away? You know I hate it.” Harry asked, Draco ignored Andy when he wrapped his arm loosely around Harry’s shoulders.

 _So, Andy was a muggle, then._ Harry only ever asked him to hide The Prophet when he’d brought home a muggle. What was his thing with muggles recently? The past five he’d brought home were all muggles.

“Yes, of course.” He shuffled the paper back into its elastic band before chucking it onto the couch across the apartment.

“I’m making breakfast again-”

“Oh Merlin save us-”

“What would you like Andy?” Harry asked, moving out of Andy’s arm towards the stove.

“I’ll just have a fried egg if you’re making, got to get my protein in the mornings.” He smiled, casting a joking gaze to Draco. Draco shot a passive-aggressive smile back at him, feigning some form of chivalry.

Harry lowered the frying pan onto the stove, turning the heat up just a bit too low for making a fried egg. _Merlin help this completely useless man._

Draco chose to ignore Harry’s sub-par cooking skills and instead settled on quizzing Andy, who was now sat opposite Draco.

Andy was quite a vocal guy, he’d woke Draco up last night and was also the reason that Draco had come down to the kitchen so early. Draco had woken up this morning to the undeniable sound of morning sex between the two and couldn’t stand to sit in his room and listen, so he’d come downstairs, still in his pyjama bottoms and shirt to avoid the sound. He squinted his eyes at the man.

“So, what do you work as then, Andy?” Draco pulled his morning cup of coffee closer to his body, stirring it with his spoon. Andy showed him a charming smile. _What a fucking arsehole._

“I’m a personal trainer down at Planet Fitness.” 

_Of course he’s a personal trainer._

“That’s where you work out, isn’t it Draco?” Harry chimed in, picking up the oil bottle.

“Oh wow, we could be gym buddies!” Andy proposed, leaving Draco with a distasteful smile on his lips.

“Yes, that sounds… Wonderful.” He took a sip of his suddenly bitter coffee.

“How often do you go there?”

“About five times a week, I take the weekend off.”

“That’s awesome, mate! I’m working the whole week; I only work out for fun on the weekend.”

Draco held his cup even tighter.

“What a shame.”

 _Let’s get this straight._ Draco did not work out for _fun_. He only showed up to the place to get fit. The idea of finding working out fun was insane. That settles it, Andy must be mentally ill. He would never be good enough for Harry.

Which reminded Draco, how was Harry doing?

Draco looked past Andy’s shoulder to see Harry cracking an egg into a saucepan practically filled to the brim with oil.

“Oh Merlin, what the hell are you doing, Harry?” Draco pulled himself off of his chair to stand next to Harry by the stove. “You’re practically poaching that egg in oil!” Draco stared sadly into the pan, watching the egg slowly dissolve into nothing more than a yolk floating in a bath of thick, yellow oil. “And you’ve got the heat so low that you wouldn’t even warm a mouse on the brink of frostbite.” Draco picked up the saucepan and tipped the contents down the sink, the oil taking a good five seconds to flow out of the pan.

Draco moved next to Harry and almost groaned aloud when he heard Andy’s voice pipe up.

“Hey! Don’t be so mean to him, he’s trying.”

Oh Circe, Draco was about to punch this male model of a man right in his obscenely perfect mouth.

“I’ve lived with him for the past two years and he’s _my_ friend, I think I’m allowed to call out his utter stupidit-”

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that!”

“Boyfriend!?” Both him and Harry exclaimed in unison.

“Yes. We went on a date _and_ I’ve slept with him. I would say this is the start of quite a blooming relationship.”

Draco felt a twitch of anger in his neck.

“Look here, you fucking hunky imbecile.” Draco began, stepping towards Andy only to be held back by Harry’s hand on his hip. “You have no right to even think of yourself as anything to Harry, okay? You slept with him once, yeah? That means nothing. _Nothing_. Because you are one in a hundred, whereas _me_ , I am Harry’s _best_ friend! And he doesn’t change me out every single night. So, please get your toned, little arse out of here before your delusion grows any further!”

“Harry, tell him!” Andy shouted, standing up from the table, even from this distance his height stacked over Draco. “Tell him that I’m your boyfriend.”

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

Draco had never felt prouder in his life.

“What? But we had another date planned and everything.”

“Please leave, Andy.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Harry pulled Draco back towards him, tying his hands around Draco’s waist to join in front of his stomach.

“But what about our date, for tomorrow. Are we still on?”

Draco’s back was now pressed up against Harry’s chest, he could feel the muscles move against him.

“No. Please leave.”

“Fine... Fuck you!” Andy exclaimed, turning around and grabbing his jacket on the way out. He left with an audible slam.

“Seems like macho man has anger issues.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco turned his head to face Harry, not wanting to pull his back away from Harry’s chest or lose the contact of Harry’s fingers brushing against the skin just beneath the hem of his shirt.

“Well, you weren’t exactly kind to him. I’d even say you were a bit of a dick.”

“He deserved it! Could you not see how obviously mentally ill he was? And he had his hands all over you when you came in. Putting his arm over your shoulders like that. What a creep!” Harry chuckled, the air of his breath brushing over Draco’s ear, making him stiffen in place.

“Maybe you were right. What you said was… it was quite sweet.”

Draco had to bite down on his bottom lip when he felt the slightly chapped skin of Harry’s lips press just behind his ear.

“Thank you.”

Oh Merlin, Draco had to get away from Harry before he realised that Draco had a stupid, little crush on him. Not that Draco did have a crush on Harry. _Oh, who was he kidding_? Of course he had a crush on Harry. A debilitating, humongous, painful crush.

He stepped away, pulling himself awkwardly out of Harry’s arms. When Draco looked back, Harry looked like a crushed puppy.

“Sorry, I-” Harry apologised, bringing one hand up to rub at his eyes. “Sorry, let’s just… Get back to making breakfast.”

Yes. Breakfast. That sounded like a great idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do we think of this AU? Do we like it, or not?
> 
> Feel free to comment below, I like reading them. :)


	2. I'll Have a Depresso, Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments, guys. They made my day each time I read them.
> 
> In return, I offer you: the next chapter.

It was a cold Tuesday morning, and Tuesday mornings always meant one thing.

It was time for Harry and Draco’s weekly date to Draco’s coffee shop, _which wasn’t a date_ , so Draco wasn’t too sure why Harry insisted on calling it a date, it was more of a casual get together. Between friends. _Just_ friends.

The door chimed as they walked through, the small bell echoing through the café.

“Ladies first,” Harry opened his arm in front to let Draco enter first. Draco swiftly swatted him in the arm before passing through.

“What do you want then, Harry?” Draco’s fingertips were cold, and the windows were mildly iced over. Winter mornings in London were always bitterly chilly, but it only made the satisfaction of a hot cup of coffee even nicer.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate, please. Get me something sweet as well.” Harry strolled passed to grab their usual seats by the windows. Two comfy leather chairs, with cushions and throw blankets resting on top.

“Hi Bethany.” Draco greeted his youngest Barista. She was only sixteen and had worked there since Draco opened the store two years ago. She was extremely shy when she’d first started, but in recent times, she’d really warmed to the place.

“Hey Draco. What do you want then?” She smiled broadly.

“A hot chocolate and an americano, please.” Her smile deepened.

“I see you’ve brought Harry with you.”

“As always.”

“What cake slice do you want then?”

Draco chuckled at the question, every single time Harry came into the shop, he ordered exactly the same cake. He had never once deviated from the option (despite Draco’s begging to try something new) and always ordered a Treacle Tart with a side of cream, without fault. He was known for it by now.

“We’ll have a Treacle Tart with a side of cream, and a chocolate fudge cake; for myself.”

“Nice. I’ll bring them over in a second.”

Draco moved to where Harry was sat, surprised at Harry’s extremely stiff posture. He had brought one of the blankets up to where his head was, in (what Draco assumed to be) a ridiculously bad effort at hiding himself.

“What on Earth are you doing, Harry?”

Harry peeked out of one eyeball. The idiot had his eyes squeezed shut, as if that would make him unrecognisable.

“Shhhhhh.” He scolded, burying himself deeper into the blanket.

“Who are you trying to- Ah!” Harry grabbed Draco’s arm to pull him down to the chair opposite.

“Shh!” Harry sounded again.

“Who is it?” Draco asked again, this time quieter.

“Three ‘o’clock”

“I asked who it was, not the time. It’s eleven am anyways, you imbec-”

“No! I mean- uh… Look over there.” Harry nodded diagonally, just behind Draco’s shoulder. “Don’t make it obvious.”

Draco turned his whole head around to look, squinting at each of the customers.

“No! Draco! Be subtle!”

Draco ignored him and continued squinting.

“I have absolutely no idea who you’re talking about, Harry.”

At the name Harry, one of the customer’s heads suddenly jerked in their direction.

“Oh, Bloody hell.”

“Here’s your order, you two.” Harry’s exclamation was swiftly interrupted by Bethany, placing the cakes and drinks down on the table. “Have fun.” She shot Draco a wink as she left.

_What an Earth was that for._

“Oh Merlin, he remembers me.”

“Who is he?” Draco forked a bite of his cake and almost moaned at the taste exploding on his tongue. Sometimes he swore they mixed just a bit of magic into these cakes.

“I went on a date with him. I think he’s called Winston.”

“And…?” Draco didn’t understand, Harry had so many bed partners that they saw him all the time, yet he’d never acted like this before.

“He was really, really weird.”

“How so?”

“He was the one that wanted to piss on me.”

“How plebeian.”

“Plebeian? Oh, not the time. Look, he’s seen me.” Draco began turning his head. “Actually, don’t look! Just keep looking at me.” Draco turned back around. “Plus, he was-” Harry pulled his hand up and made a very crude sign that Draco presumed to be reference to the lack of length of this man’s certain appendage.

“I thought you were a top. Why would that matter?” Draco asked, making Harry splutter in his seat. He went mildly red.

“I… I am.” He chuckled. “But you still notice it.” Harry pulled his hot chocolate for a sip before quickly placing it back down. “Oh Circe, he’s coming over here.” Draco turned to look at the approaching man.

Of course, he had the signature bleach blond hair (despite it being obscenely greasy), but the rest of him was almost so revolting Draco wondered how Harry had slept with the man. He had grimy skin, with streaks of dirt periodically spaced out. He was short (maybe 5’4) and stout, with broad shoulders and a port belly (which was almost definitely from excessive alcohol consumption). His fingers were bulky like a troll’s, with overgrown, fungus-ridden fingernails and he had a very large, oversized bump on the bridge of his nose.

How on earth had he gotten lucky enough to have Harry.

“ ‘Ello there boys, lovely to see yer again ‘arry” His accent was peculiar, he must be from a farming background. “I was wonderin’ when I might’ve stumbled into yer again. Must be my lucky day.”

That’s when Draco smelt a wave of bad breath hit his nostrils. He scrunched his nose up in distaste. Harry must’ve gotten rid of this guy before having him over for the night, otherwise Draco would definitely have remembered him.

“Hello Winston.” Harry greeted, as nicely as he could considering he was currently covering his nose with the thick blanket. “How are you?”

“Well, I’m doin’ lovely now that yer here.” Winston directed his attention to Draco. “Why yer a good lookin’ chap, aren’t ya? What’s yer name?” He asked, holding out one oversized hand.

Draco glanced down at it and considered shaking it for only half a second before looking back up.

“Draco.”

“Draco. What a pre’ty name. To go with such a pre’ty face.” Draco already felt creepy shivers running up his spine. “Per’aps I could join you two one day?” He propositioned, pulling his hand away and back into his pocket.

“Join us in what?” Draco sneered.

“A pretty mouth like yers shouldn’t be pulling that face, it’s a waste.” Winston said, “But per’aps I could join yer in yer bedroom activities. ‘ave a bit of fun time.”

Draco heard Harry snort into his blanket.

“Excuse me?!” Draco began. “For one, I would never let your grimy hands anywhere near me, and secondly, me and Harry aren’t… We aren’t… lovers!”

“Why not?” Winston asked, completely unbothered by Draco’s insults. He turned his face to Harry and in a hushed tone said “I’ve always liked the pre’ty ones.”

“Why not?” Draco spluttered, “Because I’m straight, for starters! So, I would never ever ever, not in a billion years, _ever_ sleep with _Harry_.”

Winston looked mildly surprised.

“Oh, sorry lad. You just look like a bit of a pansy, s’all.”

“I am not a bloody pansy!” Draco was faintly aware that he had the entire shops attention on him now. “I would never sleep with Harry and Merlin knows I would never even come within three feet of you!”

“A’ight, I get it. Yer straight, I believe you. Does that mean ‘arry ‘ere is free game?”

“No it does not.” Harry piped up now, an odd expression on his face. “Neither of us want anything to do with you Winston, I would really appreciate it if you left us alone.”

“Are yer sure, I ‘ad a lotta plans for us-”

“Please leave, before I call the authorities.”

Winston put both his hands up.

“I ain’t asked for no trouble.”

“Then leave.”

Winston turned around; his shoulders hunched.

“You were right, Harry. He’s an absolute weirdo!” Draco laughed. Harry had no reaction, instead he was just staring blankly at his hot chocolate. “Really weird! Right, Harry?”

Again, no reaction, apart from his finger picking up some foam from his drink and bringing it to his mouth.

“Are you alright there, Harry? He didn’t freak you out, right?” Harry finally looked up at Draco.

“No, he’s not what I’m worried about.”

Draco furrowed his eyebrows. _What on Earth could Harry be upset about?_ Draco wished he was a mind reader.

“What’s wrong?”

Harry was silent for a few seconds.

“Is the idea of sleeping with me really that bad?”

Draco felt his heart stop.

“What?” He questioned; his fingertips were buzzing with shakes.

“You heard what I said.” Draco couldn’t feel his knees.

“No, I really think I must’ve misheard.” Harry rolled his eyes and repeated exactly the same sentence.

“Is the idea of sleeping with me really that bad?”

So, Draco had heard him correctly. Which meant Draco was actually about to have this conversation with Harry. In public. And Harry was going to find out about Draco’s ridiculous, creepy, little crush? Maybe he would be weirded out and be just as freaked out by Draco as he was of Winston.

Because, in reality, Draco really, really wanted to sleep with Harry. He wanted it like a homeless man wants money, like a hungry man wants food. The idea of sleeping with Harry sounded like a cure for an unquenchable thirst. But of course, that’s not what Draco said.

“Well…” Draco paused, shell-shocked. “I suppose, I would probably sleep with you…” Harry’s posture straightened, “But only, if like, I was going to die otherwise.”

“So… You’d rather die than sleep with me?”

“No!” Draco panicked, “I would rather sleep with you than die, but I’d only sleep with you if death was the only other option.”

Harry stopped all movement, even his leg shaking under the table – which Draco hadn’t even been aware of until he’d stopped. He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, leaving an indent on his cheeks.

“So, you don’t want to sleep with me.”

“No! Wait, yes! I mean, if I had to, I would.” Draco could feel his heart beating out of his chest. Surely Harry would be able to hear it.

“What about it sounds so bad?” Harry asked again, it was like what Draco was saying was going in one ear and out of the other.

“Because I’m straight, Harry.”

“Oh, just give up this bloody straight act, Malfoy!” Harry shouted, bringing the attention of the entire café to their table (again). A middle-aged woman with a baby tutted in their direction.

“What do you mean ‘straight act’?” Draco asked, feeling his stomach fall out of his body. Harry rolled his eyes, filled with pent-up anger.

“I mean… Look, Draco, I have lived with you for two years now.” Harry began, in a hushed tone, “And I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re not straight. You like _guys_ , and it is painfully obvious to everyone but you.”

Draco fell silent. _Draco was gay?_

He supposed it was _quite_ _gay_ to have a crush on Harry (who was definitely a man), and that it probably was _quite gay_ to fantasise about sex with Harry, and that owning a café and spending his free time gossiping with the female workers about the celebrity section of the newspaper wasn’t really a very heterosexual pass time.

_Maybe Draco was gay?_

He wasn’t quite aware of how much time had passed in his silence, maybe seconds or hours or days. But it was enough time that Harry’s anger had faded into a small dose of guilty regret.

“I’m sorry, Draco-” Harry began, but Draco interrupted him.

“You know what?”

Harry seemed to brace himself for Draco’s next sentence.

“What?”

“I probably would sleep with you, Harry.” Draco couldn’t believe what he was saying, had he gone insane? “In fact, I would happily sleep with you.”

Harry’s whole body was on edge, but his mouth had lifted into a large smile, spanning the expanse of his face to his ears.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Harry’s face had shaded red, his lips plump and stretched around his smile. His eye’s were glowing.

“Oh my God, Draco! I can’t believe you actually feel like this-”

“It’s just a shame we’re only friends.” Draco interrupted, not wanting to hear how Harry would reject him. Say that their friendship was too awkward now he knew about Draco’s attraction to him. Say that he wanted to move out. And Draco couldn’t – no, he _wouldn’t_ \- let himself lose Harry.

Harry’s face suddenly fell.

“What?”

“Ya’know, I’ve known you for too long to have any sexual attraction to you, really. We put each other in the friendzone after so long living together.” Draco laughed but felt his heart break as he spoke. It finally proved to him that he was never going to be lucky enough to be able to call Harry his own.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’re just friends, right Harry?”

Harry didn’t look happy at all, in fact Draco was sure he hadn’t ever seen him looking quite so kicked down before.

“Yeah, just _friends_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor poor Harry. Draco really isn't very good with this pining thing.
> 
> What do we all think about it? Leave a comment below. :)


	3. Don't Stop Knocking On My Door

Everything between Harry and Draco had been slightly awkward since Tuesday. There was always a weird tension in the room when they were next to each other now. It was driving Draco insane.

He thought he’d done the right thing by telling Harry he would sleep with him if they weren’t friends, but he was rapidly regretting that decision.

Harry must think he’s a creepy weirdo.

If only he’d insisted that he didn’t want to sleep with Harry, then maybe they would’ve carried on as they were. These thoughts were keeping Draco up late into the night every day since.

Just like today for example, he’d decided to go to bed at the early time of eight pm, just to get away from Harry in the Livingroom. Harry had sat there with a full bottle of gin, endlessly staring at the television and pretending Draco wasn’t even in the room.

It broke his heart.

He’d hoped that he would fall asleep quickly, into a comforting lull of dreams, but instead he’d been trapped awake, tossing and turning underneath his bed sheets. He glanced over to his alarm clock.

_2:06 A.M._

He groaned, reminding himself of how despicably thirsty his throat was. But he was so tired, it was hard even forcing himself to open his eyes, and right now, the idea of a trek to the Kitchen sounded debilitating.

He blinked widely, setting his gaze on his ceiling, staring at it with tired, wide eyes. Oh Merlin, what had he done? Another pang of regret wracked itself through his body.

Of course he had gone a whole two years of a perfect, symbiotic relationship with Harry, only to ruin it by getting his bloody feelings involved.

Suddenly, the idea of walking to the kitchen seemed like a great distraction from his thoughts. He needed to stop thinking about Harry. A nice, tall cup of water would be the perfect thing for the glass shards in his throat.

He lugged himself out of bed, tugging at his legs when they got tangled in the sheets. His tossing and turning had left his entire body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, he was almost tempted to jump in the shower, but he fought against the urge. He was soon out of his room and in front of the kitchen sink with a clear glass in his hand, ready to be filled.

He turned on the tap, waiting for the water to run cold.

The walk to the kitchen hadn’t settled the pang of regret in any way, it instead left it swirling even deeper in his heart. _What was he going to do?_

He dipped the glass under, filling it to the brim before taking six deep gulps, emptying it in seconds.

He filled it once again, chugging down the water so that some spilt down and covered his throat. His thirst felt unquenchable and each gulp felt more like the scraping of nails than the last. But he couldn’t stop, he took another gulp of water. For half a second it was refreshing, but then the thirst came back, accompanied by a need for another glass.

Draco drank enough water that it almost made him sick, he could feel it bubbling in his belly, tempting its way up and out of his mouth.

But the water had done its job and cleared some of the fog in his head, lessening the thumping that lived deep in his eye sockets.

_He needed to apologise to Harry._

Maybe if he acknowledged what had happened and spoke to Harry about it, all of the awkwardness would sink away. Harry was always forgiving (sometimes too forgiving), he remembered how he’d forgiven him after the war, and surely a simple, little crush was a far easier thing to forgive.

It was settled then; he was going to apologise to Harry.

But the next question was whether he should do it now or wait until morning?

In Draco’s brain, he knew waiting until morning would be best. Draco could spend the rest of his sleepless night planning what to say, he would meet Harry and explain how he felt in a perfectly curated monologue. Harry would be well-rested and would understand, and if all didn’t go well. Harry would be off to the Aurors anyways. It was the perfect plan.

But Draco’s heart couldn’t wait even another second. It leapt at the thought of rushing into Harry’s bedroom now and apologising. Maybe that would be better, if Harry was half asleep when Draco apologised, maybe his reasoning would go out of the window and he would accept Draco with two wide, open arms. And maybe even-

_No_. Draco was not going to fall down that rabbit hole.

But it was settled, he was going to go to Harry’s room now and ask for his forgiveness, even if it was two in the morning. Draco plonked the glass down on the counter next to him with a bash.

He straightened his mildly wet shirt and began the walk to Harry’s room. Once he reached the door, he pressed his ear against the wood. _Silence_. He softly knocked once. Twice. And again, to be sure.

There was no response.

_Was this a good idea?_

He put his hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath and twisted.

“Look, Harry, I-”

Draco’s breath washed out of him when he saw what he’d just walked in on. Harry was in the centre of his bed, with a lean, blond man laid in front of him. The blond was in child’s pose, his head pressed down into the sheets and bum pushed up into the air. But what really made Draco’s mouth dry was Harry.

Harry hadn’t noticed Draco walk in, and he was thrusting with endless stamina into the man. His cock sheathing itself in and out of his hole so fast that Draco could hardly even see it through the blur. His entire body was covered in sweat, leaving a satisfying glint of light against his toned stomach, contrasting the tantalising snail trail that Draco had spent oh so much time glancing at under Harry’s shirts.

Draco didn’t know what to do or say, Harry kept pumping in and out of the man, with such ferocity that Draco didn’t even notice the screaming moans from the blond with his face in the pillow, his hands tied up in ecstasy behind his neck. Draco was hypnotised by the ripple of the man’s arse with every thrust before he finally snapped out of his daze.

“Oh my Merlin!” Draco exclaimed, trying to rush out of the door, but inadvertently falling backwards and shutting the door behind himself. “I’m so sorry-”

“Draco!” Harry screamed, pulling himself out of the man to cover his privates with his hands.

“I’m- I – Sorry… I didn’t know you had someone-” Draco spluttered, trying to pick himself up from the floor to grab onto the door handle, but his legs were weak.

Harry looked ashamed as he cast his eyes down to the man next to him. “Sorry I didn’t tell you.” He apologised to Draco, his eyes widening when Draco reached for the door handle behind him.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay-”

“-No!” Harry reached one hand out in Draco’s direction when he reached for the door. Draco was aware he must’ve been as red as a tomato as he passed an apologetic glance to the man who had just now pulled his head out of the bed sheets to look up at him. “What did you want to say?”

The expression on Harry’s face looked desperate as he watched Draco, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth begging.

“Sorry, I was- It doesn’t matter. See you tomorrow, Harry.”

“No! Wait-” Draco slammed the door shut behind his back and immediately fell down onto the floor in front of it.

_What the fuck had just happened._

What. The. Fuck.

_How hadn’t Draco heard when he pressed his ear to the door?_

Oh Merlin. Now it seemed so obvious. If Harry was _sleeping_ Draco would’ve heard small snores, not the artificial silence of an obvious silencing charm. He had definitely just made things ten times worse than they already were.

_Why was this his life?_

He groaned into his hands. Way to go Draco. You’ve wrecked things again. _Just like you always do._

He felt on the verge of tears. But he also felt something else building up inside of him. Specifically building up in his crotch area.

Oh Merlin, he was _disgusting_.

He’d just walked in on his best friend having sex, and now he was hard. _What sort of pervert was he?_

He glanced down at his groin and gasped at the sight _. Yes,_ he’d seen his own erection before, but he wasn’t expecting to see it quite so hard in such a small amount of time.

It was jutting out against his pyjama bottoms like a sore needle, leaving a large tent where it stood. Now that he looked closer, he could see that the tip of his cock was slowly leaking a small amount of precum onto the front of his bottoms, leaving a wet patch in its place. He rubbed his eyes, trying not to remember what he had just walked in on.

_Or maybe he should remember._

It was likely going to be the only time that he would ever see Harry in action. And if he was going to have this perverted, little crush, he may as well put the image to good use.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he couldn’t be sure if they’d stopped having sex through the door, or if they’d resumed the activity. The thought alone made Draco’s hairs stand on end.

He slowly lowered one hand down to cover the front of his pants, whimpering when he lightly pressed down against his leaking erection. _Fuck_. That felt good.

He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the door with a clunk.

With his eyes closed, he could freely imagine what he’d just seen, and he did. So, he pictured the scene (replacing the blond with his own willing body), the image was shockingly more realistic than how he’d ever imagined it before. Draco pictured his own arse chucked up in the air, begging for Harry to move forward and shove his cock into Draco’s bundle of nerves.

Draco finally moved his hand from the outside of his pants under the waistband and into private territory. The touch of his hard dick was comforting against his hand, the heavy weight of it reassuring. He wrapped his fingers around the familiar girth, groaning at the much needed jerk of pleasure.

He imagined Harry leaning over him and shoving his hand to Draco’s front to wrap his fingers around Draco’s erection, hanging down in front of him with his desperate arse still begging in the air. Draco tugged from base to tip as he imagined Harry’s strong, calloused fingers massaging his length, making Draco squirm beneath his touch.

He wondered whether Harry would prefer fast or slow.

_Definitely fast_ , he saw him just five seconds earlier doing exactly that. Draco began to move his hand vigorously against his dick, the skin shuffling with his touch, each feather of pleasure building until Draco was arching his back against the door. He thrust up into his hand, imagining Harry whispering small, dirty words into his ear. About his arse and cock and how hard he was going to fuck him.

Draco suddenly felt an overwhelming urge rip through his body for more. _More_.

He imagined… _He felt his cheeks blush_ … He imagined Harry moving between Draco’s thighs and pressing a finger to his arsehole. But just picturing the sensation wasn’t enough. He needed to feel it.

Draco opened his legs a bit wider and brought his free hand down to rest between his thighs, leaving his other hand to teasingly flutter up and down the shaft of his erection. Slowly, he let his finger brush against the sensitive skin of his arsehole. He bristled at the touch.

_Lube_. He needed lube.

Luckily, Draco had been learning how to cast the spell wandlessly. The idea of learning it made his head fill with heat, but he’d spent so much time recently learning about the ins and outs of the male anatomy that he’d gotten fed up with needing to grab his wand every time he’d wanted to shove his fingers up his arse.

He whispered the spell, feeling the satisfying cool of lube against his fingers. Now when he rubbed his fingertips around the muscle, his arsehole fluttered with pleasure.

Draco went back to imagining Harry’s fingers circling his muscle, before slowly and carefully dipping in, pushing one of his fingers in to the first knuckle. Draco groaned at the satisfying feeling of fullness. Whilst Draco had discovered fingering was never that great to begin with, he had found that he’d become an absolute slut for it towards the end.

He dipped his finger back out, imagining it was Harry’s, and mimicking his thrusting motion. In and out, in and out, in and out, until Draco felt loose enough to push a second finger in, loving the obscene squelching down the lube made when he loosened his arse like this. Draco moaned, a bit loader this time, two fingers was when everything started to get good.

He pushed back against the stretch, riding his own fingers as he gradually increased the speed of his hand rubbing up and down his length, managing to synchronise the two movements to a satisfying rhythm. He pumped his fingers in and out of him, still fantasising the image of Harry thrusting his thick fingers into Draco’s tight arse, loosening him up, whilst constantly whispering strings of dirty words into his ear. Words that Draco was sure Harry would never say to him in real life. But Draco loved it.

Finally, when Draco inserted his third finger in, he could imagine Harry’s thick cock sliding into him. Of course, the fingers weren’t anywhere near as big or satisfying, but Draco groaned against the touch nevertheless. Now that he’d seen Harry in action, he knew that Harry had a good sized package and (even better) he knew how to use it.

Draco met each thrust of his fingers against himself, bobbing up and down against Harry’s hardwood door. The hand on his dick sped up as he imagined the exact image that he’d walked in on, him bent over with his arse in the air and Harry savagely thrusting in and out of him, using him like a doll.

When Draco imagined the beautiful sound of his name falling from Harry’s lips, he felt his orgasm fast approaching. Once he sped up his hand to the point that his wrist ached, he couldn’t hold back any longer and he saw white as come splattered out of his cock onto the flooring in front of him, covering the wood in lines of white spunk.

Draco groaned as he pumped the last few drops out of himself, letting his head fall back against the door. _That was probably the best wank he’d had in years._ He looked down at the streams of white lining the floor between his legs, when he looked even lower, he saw the clear lube had strained through his pyjama bottoms, leaving a large wet patch in its place.

Then it hit Draco. The severity of what he’d just done.

He’d just wanked, in front of his roommate’s door. Whilst he had fantasised about his roommate fucking him. _What the fuck was he thinking?_

Draco panicked as he pulled himself up from the ground, his legs silently wobbling beneath him in objection. _There was something wrong with him_. What if Harry had opened the door and seen him sat there with his fingers up his arse. _Oh Merlin he was so stupid!_

He pulled his pyjama bottoms up slightly too high on his waist. _He had to get out of here._ He skidded to the room next door until he was face to face with his own door. At which, he ran through the wood and slammed the door behind himself. Flopping down onto his bed.

The only upside to the situation was that after a good wank, sleep always came easily

-

Of course, the smell of burnt bacon was what had woken Draco up that morning.

He squinted out at his curtains, hating how bright the sun seemed to be today. Then the memories all came flooding back to him. He’d walked in on Harry.

Draco groaned into his pillow.

How would he even face Harry today? Surely, he wouldn’t even be able to meet his eyes. That was it settled then; he was not leaving his bedroom until Harry had left for work.

Then he would avoid Harry for the rest of his life. Maybe move away to somewhere in France.

But then he’d have to sell the café and… ugh, _things were never that easy._

He rubbed his eyes with two sleepy fists and decided to head back to sleep whilst he waited for Harry to leave. But just as his eyes drifted shut and he was on the cliff edge between sleep and wake, the loud, bleating sound of the fire alarm sounded.

Draco felt like screaming.

He brought his plump pillow up around his ears, but it didn’t even seem to muffle the sound – which was now beginning to form a roaring headache in Draco’s skull. He tried to ignore it for another thirty seconds before the alarm became too grating for him to handle. He was also mildly worried about the quite large possibility of burning to death If he didn’t do anything.

He whipped out of bed, grunting when his legs got tangled up in the sheets. He chucked a muggle hoodie over his pyjama top and begrudgingly left his room to go through to the kitchen.

When he entered the room, he didn’t dare look up, instead he kept his eyes focused on the floor and walked up to the table. He gave himself a leg up onto it from a chair and lifted his arm to press the red button of the fire alarm.

The bleeping stopped.

But when he was forced to look up to see the red button, he realised he was now approximately three centimetres away from Harry’s face. Draco’s stomach plummeted to the ground.

“Hi Draco.” Harry greeted, one of his hands snaking to tuck into the hoodie pocket. Draco took a step away from him in response.

“Hi.”

He quickly turned his body around and stepped off of the table, intent on running away to his room to resume his sleep.

“Wait!” Harry shouted from behind him, Draco’s body froze mid-step, his shoulders going rigid.

“Yes?”

“Won’t you stay with us for breakfast?” Harry asked, even without seeing his face, Draco could hear the desperation in his voice. His body stiffened even further.

He should say no. Right? He should definitely say no and just keep walking.

“Okay.”

Draco turned his body around and without looking at either Harry or his date, he sat down at the table.

“Are you not going to help make breakfast?” Harry asked, a tone of hope and sadness threaded through his words.

“I think we best stick to cereal today.” Draco looked up, meeting Harry’s gaze for the first time that morning. It felt awkward. Harry’s mouth slid into a frown.

“Okay then.”

Draco looked over at Harry’s date. This one had a shocking resemblance to Draco, which Draco had absentmindedly thought was quite strange, but he’d decided not to comment on it. The man had platinum blond hair, high cheekbones and a pointy chin. He looked to be the same height and build as Draco, the only real difference between them being that this man had deep, swirling, brown eyes, instead of Draco’s signature grey. Draco showed him a strained smile.

“Hi, I’m Damien.” He held a hand forward for Draco to take, Draco accepted the handshake (he probably deserved a warm welcome considering how Draco had rudely interrupted them last night).

Which reminded him, he should probably apologise.

“Yeah, it’s Draco… Look I’m really sorry about-”

“Don’t worry, there’s no hard feelings.” He accepted, almost annoyingly forgiving, “We’re all men. Nothing that interesting to see.” He laughed.

Another difference between the two men was that Damien had a far deeper voice, and now that Draco looked, he had two dimples lining his cheeks.

Draco hid his jealousy; _he’d always wanted dimples._

Draco nodded along and smiled when a bowl was pushed in front of him.

Harry and Damien both had cornflakes with milk – a fairly bog-standard breakfast. But when Draco looked down into his bowl, he saw that Harry had made him a bowl of creamy oats, with yoghurt, berries, honey and nuts to top it off.

It was Draco’s favourite breakfast, he always made it when he had enough time in the morning, but he’d never asked Harry to make it before. He presumed that he wouldn’t know how to cook it properly.

“Wow, thanks Harry. This looks great.” When Draco met Harry’s eyes, they were sparkling with a wide smile. He looked so proud.

Draco felt a swarm of butterflies dance in his belly.

When he took the first bite, he could’ve sworn all the butterflies had flew up to land on his taste buds. It was even better than how Draco cooked it.

“Oh my word, how did you cook this, Harry?” Draco asked, amazed as he shoved another spoon full into his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Harry smiled into his own bowl of cereal.

“I added cinnamon and chocolate into the oat mix, then coated the top in some icing sugar, otherwise I made it just how you do.” Harry took a bite of his own breakfast.

Damien was looking between the two with a knowing smile on his lips (what he knew, Draco had no idea).

“And yet, you still can’t cook a single rasher of bacon. You cease to amaze me, Harry.”

Next time Draco looked up, a delicate blush was sprinkled over Harry’s cheeks.

They finished the rest of breakfast in comforting small talk.

Damien was actually a very worthy partner for Harry (which annoyed Draco to no end). He was muggle but worked as a doctor in a London Hospice. He was extremely charming, (he’d even managed to make Draco’s knees go weak a few times) and was brilliant at complements.

What amazed Draco to no end, was that when he had finished his cereal, he had excused himself from the apartment without overstaying his welcome. He was the only one of Harry’s one-night stands that hadn’t stormed out in the morning since September.

But as soon as he left, Draco was alone with Harry, and he hadn’t realised quite how that would make him feel. He felt shockingly exposed after last night and found himself finishing his oatmeal in an awkward silence. Completely tongue tied about what to say.

Just when he was about to scoop up the last bit of oatmeal, he heard Harry speak up.

“I think we need to talk.”

Draco dropped his spoon back into the bowl with a clang, splattering some of the oatmeal.

Oh Merlin, this was exactly the opposite of what he’d wanted to happen.

“Talk about what?” Draco played innocent, deciding to scoop the left-over oatmeal around his plate into different patterns and shapes.

“You know what… Last night.”

“What about last night?”

“What did you want to say to me?”

Draco left his spoon alone, abandoning it in favour of running his hands through his hair.

“I don’t even know… I’d come in on a whim.”

“So, you had no idea what you were going to say? Not anything at all?”

“Well…” Draco looked everywhere around the room before deciding on his words. “I had noticed things had gotten awkward between us since Tuesday. I guess I wanted to apologise.”

“Apologise for what?”

Now Draco thought about it, what was he going to apologise for? Saying Harry was just his friend (which he was)? Making it awkward because he said he would’ve had sex with Harry? The more Draco’s mind went over it, the more he realised that he didn’t really have anything to apologise for.

“Actually… I have no idea… I suppose for making things awkward.”

Harry nodded, then glanced over to his bedroom door.

Draco looked over and followed his eyes.

A cold chill ran over his body without warning when a memory flashed into his mind. He remembered how he’d jacked off in front of that door (which was enough to make his hands shake) but he was more worried about what he couldn’t remember. He never remembered cleaning up his spunk from the floor, but when Draco looked at the wooden floor now, there was no sign of the white liquid.

_Oh Merlin, he was an idiot!_

Panic ran through Draco’s bloodstream. _Harry had caught him out._ Harry must know. He knew. _He had to know._ He knew about how much of a creep Draco was. _This would be hard to explain._

“I think I should apologise for not telling you Damien was coming over.”

Draco feigned nonchalance, as if he hadn’t just realised what a massive mistake he’d made. _Maybe Harry hadn’t noticed?_

“He’s a nice guy, great at making things not awkward.”

“He is…” Harry’s eyes strained back to the door frame, he looked conflicted.

Draco felt a bead of sweat on his forehead.

“He was even better in bed.”

Draco suddenly went into a coughing attack, spluttering into the bowl in front of him, before he managed to collect himself in a very non-civilized manner.

“Mmhmmm…” Draco agreed, standing up out of his chair. He needed some water.

Harry had a strange, mischievous smirk coating his face.

“He was probably one of the best I’ve had.” Harry continued talking. Draco could feel multiple beads of sweat running down his back now as he poured himself a nice, cold glass.

“Really.” Draco replied, taking a big gulp of water.

“Even after you left.” Harry continued, this time Draco didn’t reply, instead choosing to neck down the entire glass of water. “Speaking of which… What did you do after you left?”

_He knew._

_He definitely knew._

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuc-_

Draco choked on the water he was drinking, some of it going down the wrong tube in his throat, making him helplessly wither against the kitchen counter. He was quite thankful for the choking (as long as it meant he didn’t have to talk), he even contemplated falling down onto the floor and pretending he’d died, it would definitely be a conversation changer. But he knew he wasn’t a good enough actor for that, Harry would know exactly what he was doing.

“I just went back to bed.” Draco was surprised at how choked up his voice was, it hurt just to speak.

“Really?” Harry stood up from the table, his chair screeching against the floorboards.

“Yeah, what else would I do?” Draco was sure he was bright red by now. Harry took a few slow, confident steps towards him.

“I don’t know, what else could you do?” Now Harry was only half a metre away from Draco, Draco leant his whole body closer to the sink, deciding to pour himself another glass of water.

“I don’t think you went to sleep.” Harry stepped closer and wrapped his fingers over Draco’s hand on the water glass, smoothly taking the glass away from Draco into his own grip. “You don’t need any more water.

“I don’t know what your talking about.” Draco took a step back, feeling his bum press up against the kitchen counter. Harry took a step closer.

“I might be wrong, but…” Harry was only a few inches away now, Draco could feel the heat of Harry’s body radiating over to his, “I found a little… mess… outside my door this morning. Had to do some cleaning.”

Draco backed his head away when Harry moved even further forward, until the back of his head pressed against the cupboards, stopping him from moving any further back.

“I really don’t know what you’re-”

“Shhh,” Harry moved so close that his nose was only a hairs width away from Draco’s. “I think we both know what you did.”

Draco felt panic crash down like a boulder over him, his breathing was rushed, and he could feel his heart in his fingertips.

He had never felt quite so embarrassed (and turned on) before.

“And I want you to know that I think-”

Suddenly a loud knock sounded at the door, making Draco jump and accidentally bash his forehead directly against Harry’s. Both boys shouted curses in pain, Draco’s exclamations growing louder when he bashed the back of his head against the cupboard behind him as well.

“Oh Merlin!” Draco shouted. “Who is it?” He had his hand nuzzled against his forehead, trying to rub the pain away.

“No idea.” Harry was red as well now, rubbing his head with the same movements as Draco. “I’ll go check.” Harry walked away from Draco to the front of their apartment.

Now with Harry out of the room, Draco could think clearly.

_What the hell had just happened?_

Had Harry just come onto him?

Surely not, Draco must be misreading the situation. But _… What else could that mean?_

Draco ran the scene over his head.

Harry had definitely come onto him, and Harry was definitely just about to kiss Draco.

Did this mean Harry liked Draco back?

_Oh my Merlin_ – Harry liked Draco back!

And Harry was about to kiss Draco!

Wait… _Harry was about to kiss Draco?_

Draco cursed whoever had the worst timing skills in the history of the Earth to knock at that exact moment.

Then Draco saw Damien step out from the corridor to go into Harry’s room.

“Sorry mate! I left my jacket here.” Damien smiled with a wave, pushing the door open and disappearing inside of it.

“No worries!” Draco shouted back to him.

Of course the sod had forgotten his jacket. And of course he had to return at the exact moment Draco’s dreams were about to come true.

Draco immediately retracted all the good things he had said about Damien before.

Because he did not like him one little bit right this second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Draco has finally realised that maybe his feelings are reciprocated. Took him long enough.
> 
> But thank you for reading (I always say this but I mean it) you lovely people and please leave a comment if you can. I like knowing peoples reactions :)


	4. The Names Bond. James Bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SUPER sorry about the long update time for this one. I really love writing this fic so I'm upset that I had to put it on pause, but I had some personal problems to get passed first, so thank you for every one who has been so understanding.
> 
> Therefore as an apology, I'll give you an extra long chapter that I was originally going to chop up into two. 
> 
> :)

Draco re-adjusted the fabric of his jacket.

It had been a week since his almost kiss with Harry and he had no idea what in the bloody hell to do about it. Neither had brought it up and Merlin knows Draco wasn’t going to be the one to start _that_ conversation.

Although, Draco had noticed that Harry’s small, little touches had begun to get more frequent recently, he was touching Draco’s arms, back and shoulders at every chance he got. And Draco wasn’t one to object (obviously). But the chance for a kiss had never presented itself, every single time they had been interrupted or it never even happened.

For example, just two days after the first kiss attempt, Draco and Harry were having a movie night, both snuggled up beneath one blanket and sharing a box of popcorn. Draco’s heart dropped when he felt Harry’s fingertips grab his jaw and turn his chin towards him. Then, just as Harry was only a centimetre away, one of the characters in the film screamed so loud that Draco joined in and chucked his popcorn up in the air in shock.

Then there was the third kissing attempt, which was when Draco had decided to drop by Harry’s work. Sometimes (if Draco was feeling particularly giving), Draco would run around to the Auror department at Lunch time to drop of some extra little snacks for Harry. When he’d come into Harry’s office, they somehow ended up in the position of Harry pressing him up against the door and just like last time, he managed to get his lips to only a centimetre away before Ron Weasley opened the door with a cup of tea and what must’ve been twenty biscuits.

Which reminded him of his current situation. He was getting dressed to go to the yearly Weasley Christmas party, which he was extremely nervous for. Perhaps he was friendly with most of the Weasley’s now that the war was over, but he had never been able to break through the hard exterior of Molly Weasley. It always made him uncomfortable when he could feel her disapproving gaze set on him from across the room. Whilst she’d never said anything directly to him, Draco got the vibe that she still didn’t trust him.

Which Draco really couldn’t blame her for, his father did plant Ginny with a horcrux and Draco himself had been a dick to the Weasleys for years, but the uncomfortable gaze she gave him always made Draco regret everything he’d ever done to the family.

He gave himself another once over in the mirror. _Everything was going to be fine_. It was just a silly little party, and if things really got awkward, he was sure Harry would let him floo home early.

“Draco! Are you almost done yet!” Harry shouted through Draco’s door.

“Yes!” Draco quickly smoothed down his hair one last time before leaving his room.

Harry was sat on the sofa, and when Draco rounded the corner, a bright smile lit up his face.

Harry looked dashing, whilst he did look handsome all the time (in a rugged, heroic way), Draco couldn’t deny that he loved how warm and domestic Harry looked wrapped up tight in his woollen jumper with a large ‘H’ on the front. His heart gave a pump in awe.

“You look lovely.” Harry greeted, pulling himself up off the sofa. His lips were in a soft grin, making the deep red stand out against the white of his teeth.

“As do you.”

Harry walked past Draco to stand in front of the large fireplace.

“Do you want to go first or shall I?”

Draco couldn’t ignore the soft weight of Harry’s hand on his lower back.

“You can go first.”

Harry stepped forward into the floo and grabbed a handful of powder before dropping it and burning up and away to the burrow.

Draco swiftly followed.

Within half a second, Draco was transported into the floo at the Weasley’s, with Harry stood only a metre away in front of him, one hand jutted forward for Draco to accept. Draco accepted gracefully and stepped out (not so gracefully), laughing when he spotted a small streak of soot on Harry’s cheek.

“Can’t keep yourself clean for even a second.” Draco joked, leaning forward to rub his thumb across Harry’s cheek, but he was quickly stopped by Harry’s soft grip on his wrist. They both paused, looking deeply at Draco’s fingers, before Harry’s eyes lifted to Draco’s.

“Thanks.” Harry said, moving Draco’s hand to wipe off the soot.

“No problem.”

They stayed pin still for another second. Draco was almost certain Harry was about to lean in and-

“Harry!” A feminine voice shouted from the corner. “Draco!” She greeted, the petit red-head chucked herself in their direction, breaking the silence by wrapping her arms around Harry’s body.

_Well there was the fourth kissing attempt wasted._

“Hi there, Ginny.” Harry laughed, tying his arms around her neck. Draco hated the pang of jealousy that rang through him.

When Ginny pulled away from Harry, a single hand was lifted to smack him across the arm.

“That’s for not calling for three months, you twat!”

Whilst her words seemed accusatory, her face showed her amusement.

“I’m sorry! I’ve had a lot of work.”

“You better have.”

Draco cleared his throat to grab her attention.

“Of course, how rude am I, Draco?”

In a completely non-consensual move, Ginny’s arms wrapped around Draco’s own neck, overwhelming with the flowery, vanilla scent of her perfume. Ginny always made an effort to be kind to Draco whenever she saw him, but it didn’t stop his surprise at her greeting. After so many years of hating one another, her embrace was always a shock.

“Ah… Hello there – Ginny.” He awkwardly patted her back, scowling at Harry’s amusement from his stiff shoulders.

After a few infuriatingly long seconds, she pulled away.

“Now, you two lazy gits better hurry up and help mum set out the snack table. You might even get first dibs if you’re quick.”

-

Draco had set up the snack table elegantly and efficiently (as any Malfoy would), only occasionally pausing to scold Harry for his lack of finesse. It was ridiculous, the man had tried to put the sour cream and cheese celery stick right next to the chocolate biscuits! How unappetising!

Although, Draco was happy to have the relief of scolding Harry after the slightly crushing hurt of Mrs Weasley turning her back to Draco to go to the kitchen when he’d offer her help.

He would do the same if he were her.

“Harry! These snacks are for later! You can’t eat them before presents!” Draco complained again.

“To hell with the rules Draco. I killed Voldemort, I don’t think some whores doovers are going to stop me.”

Draco jokingly sneered his nose up at Harry.

“One, they’re pronounced ordervs and two, I didn’t know you knew what hors d’oevres were.”

Harry rolled his eyes and stuffed another cherry tomato between his lips.

“These chocolate biscuits really are lovely though.” George said, appearing out of no where from the opposite side of the table, three large biscuits resting in his palms.

“Bloody hell-“ Draco startled, “Does no one here understand the etiquette of snack tables?” He glared at the biscuits, which were no longer in their aesthetically pleasing pile.

“You’re in the wrong house for that.” replied Ron, also appearing from what seemed to be thin air.

“Merlin-“ Draco jumped again, this time grabbing his chest dramatically, “How do you all do that?”

“Do what?” Ron and George asked in unison.

“Appear out of nowhere?”

“Years of intense Auror training.” Ron waved his hands in a small jazz hands gesture.

“And years of practice pranking every wizard in and out of Hogwarts.” George added, curtsying his chocolate biscuit up to Ron in a nod.

Their conversation was interrupted by almost obnoxiously loud Christmas music blasting through from the Livingroom.

“It seems the festivities have begun.” George fled passed Harry and Draco, Ron quickly following in his footsteps.

Draco placed his eyes back on Harry to see a warm expression facing him.

“I’m sorry about Molly, okay.” Harry whispered, wrapping his palm around one of Draco’s hands.

“It’s okay-“

“No, it’s not. But I’m sure she’ll come ‘round someday.” Harry comforted; Draco sighed.

“I doubt it. I’ve done some really fucked up stuff, Harry.” Harrys thumb began brushing back and forth over the soft skin of Draco’s knuckles.

“You were young. You had no choice-”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now, Harry.”

Harry nodded, letting Draco’s grasp slip from his own. Draco missed the warmth.

“Come on, let’s go. Don’t want to miss presents.”

Draco showed him a tight smile and followed behind him into the Livingroom.

The room was colourful, tinsel hanging from the ceiling, little stars dangling down from there. Every surface had a blanket or pattern draped over it, emanating warmth and love from every corner. It was the complete opposite of what Christmas at the Malfoy’s had always been like. And Draco loved it.

Draco settled down next to Harry, the whole family sat in a circle as Ginny passed out everyone’s presents, until Harry was left with a pile of twelve and Draco had a good three sat in front of him. He smiled down at the mismatched wrapping paper on the gifts. He checked each of the labels (attempting not to make it obvious that he was checking).

_Ron & Hermione_

_Ginny_

_George_

Draco’s smile widened at the names, whilst the majority of the family had decided not to gift Draco anything, the three gifts sat in front of him were symbolic of their forgiveness. That they had let go of the past and forgiven his actions, forgotten the old Malfoy and accepted the new Draco. It warmed his heart. 

He grinned at the four, shooting glances around the circle to catch their eyes, he didn’t manage to meet anyone’s attention, apart from Hermione, who smiled back at him.

_Smart girl._

He slowly and methodically began unwrapping his first present, peeling back the tape first to begin pulling at the paper.

“Just open the presents normally, Draco.” Harry complained, already having opened his fourth package, now that Draco looked up at him, he could see that Harry had a fluorescent pink fedora parked upon his head.

“Oh Merlin, who got you that?”

“George. Now hurry up and open that present!”

Draco rolled his eyes and continued unwrapping the presents at his leisurely pace, once they were open, he would pick up whatever the contents were and inspect them, he’d laugh or look at them with bemused amazement at how well they had been chosen for him.

Hermione and Ron had gotten him a medium-sized bottle of cologne. The packaging appeared to be muggle, so he was extremely surprised when he spritzed it and was immediately addicted to the smell. If this wasn’t muggle, he would’ve probably thought that they had given him a bottle of amortentia.

Next up was Ginny’s gift, which was a carefully bound, leather journal. On the front, in small, golden writing was engraved ‘Property of Draco Malfoy’.

He opened the first page, the crisp, thick paper swooping down with a whoosh. In black ink, there was a small note.

_Dear Draco,_

_It seems that I owe you a journal. After ruining the first one. Haha._

_Ginevra Weasley xx_

He chuckled at the note and placed the journal back down onto the floor.

His final gift was covered with mismatched wrapping paper and shoddy tape, which was a surprise considering George worked in a shop where they often sold pre-wrapped gifts. But he supposed George never did the wrapping himself.

After undoing the wrapping with upmost precision, a white shoe box lay inside and when he opened the lid, on the paper scraps, sat an aggressively pink fedora.

“Oh Merlin.” Draco muttered.

“What is it-“ Harry started, before looking down into the box. He let out a howl of laughter. “Oh My God! That’s brilliant! Look! We match!” Harry reached into the box and grabbed the fedora before harshly plonking it down on Draco’s head.

“Partners in crime.” George shouted out from the opposite end of the circle.

“Oh Merlin.” Draco exclaimed, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

“Do we look like we fight crime together?” Harry asked, doing gun signs with his hands.

“No, you look like you might solve murder mysteries down at the local gay club though.” Ron shot back, laughing at Draco’s shocked expression.

“Yeah! Really gives of the gay lover vibes that I was going for!” George added, Draco felt his throat constricting slightly with embarrassment.

“Perfect.” Harry muttered.

The word echoed in Draco’s ears. Running through his mind, back and forth. Perfect. Harry thought them being gay lovers was perfect. _Perfect_.

“Uhhhh…” Draco choked on his words.

“Leave the poor boy alone.” Ginny jumped in, pretending she wasn’t just laughing along with the rest of them. “Can’t you see he’s embarrassed? He’s been through enough; he doesn’t deserve this mockery.” Ginny’s tone was joking, nothing but jovial, until the entire family went silent at one small comment from Molly Weasley’s lips.

“No, he deserves far worse.”

The whole room took a collective intake of breath, every ear disbelieving of what they had just heard.

“Mum.” Ron whispered, uncomfortably brushing his fringe out of his face.

“What?” She snapped. She couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, instead choosing to stare at the ground.

Draco felt his heart collapse once more. He tried to quell the echoing voices in his mind, trying to cave down on him. He could hear them scream ‘nobody wants you here.’, ’You’re only here because of Harry’ , ‘she’s right and they were all thinking it’ . He attempted to push the voices away, but they were too strong, they managed to tug at the back of his eyelids, threatening him with tears.

“That was a bit too far dear.” Arthur piped up, patting his hand down onto her shoulder.

“No.” Draco began, finally giving into the voices, “She’s right. I deserve a hell of a lot worse than what I get-“

Draco’s emotional monologue was cut short by Harry’s fuming voice. Somehow, with all the screaming in his mind, he hadn’t noticed Harry sat next to him, shaking with anger.

“No!” He stood up from the circle, abandoning his presents on the ground. “You need to stop.” He looked to Draco, “You don’t deserve anything bad, no matter what happened when you were younger, and I hate that you think that you do. Because it hurts, Draco, to hear you put yourself down constantly. Just because of the bloody war. Truth is, there were no winners or losers there. There was no good or bad side, just people trying to survive. And you got caught on the wrong side. That’s all. And it’s a load of shit-“

Molly flinched.

“To have everyone bringing you down for it.” Harry now directed his gaze to Molly. “I thought you were better than this, but you’re acting like a child. How dare you even talk to Draco like that when he’s done nothing but try and right his wrongdoings. But if you’re too far up your own arse to see that treating him like this is just as bad as whatever he did to you. Then you’re obviously not as kind and loving as I thought you were. Why can’t you just grow up!” Harry paused, now pointing around at everyone. “Why can’t all of you just grow up! Don’t think I didn’t notice that Draco is the only person sat here with less than ten presents, just like every single year, because the lot of you can’t accept that people change! I don’t expect you to bring him into the family with open arms, but some common curtesy would be bloody nice.”

Harry paused his monologuing and looked around at the circle. Everyone was sat pin still, Ginny had her mouth wide open and Molly still couldn’t move her eyes from the ground, but Hermione was sat with a small smile rested on her lips.

“Come on Draco. I think we need some space.” Harry lowered a hand down to Draco’s quivering body, he hadn’t even noticed that tears were now streaming down his pale cheeks. He didn’t know when he had started crying, but he didn’t have the heart in him to care at that moment. Draco wrapped his hand in Harry’s and stood up, following the man into the kitchen.

They stood silently staring at each other for a few seconds before the world around Draco came back to him. The dull thump in his ear swapping around to take in the sound of a roasting oven and bubbling pans.

“I’m sorry, Draco.” Harry apologised, steeping close to his frail body and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, pulling Draco into a comforting embrace.

“shhh…” Draco quietened him, settling into Harry arms. He could still hear the subtle sound of Christmas songs behind them and they slowly began to rock side to side to the beat of the music. Lazily swaying to the piano.

Draco snuggled his head into Harry’s shoulder, sniffing up a deep intake of his scent. Draco was wrong, the cologne Ron and Hermione had gotten him smelt nothing like amortentia, because the smell he was breathing in right now was a far closer match.

“I’m sorry that these Christmas parties never end well for you.”

“It’s okay.” Draco snuggled in further, whimpering slightly when Harry pulled him back an inch, his arms still wrapped around Draco, but now dropping to rest on his lower back.

“You’re too kind for this world sometimes.” Harry lifted a hand up to Draco’s chin, perching his thumb and forefinger around the skin. Draco chuckled.

“If that isn’t the most ironic thing I’ve heard all day.” Draco sniffled, warming to Harry’s touch when he wiped away the tear stains on Draco’s cheek.

Harry laughed through a tight smile. It was more of an exhale of breath than a laugh really.

“You are though. Even if you don’t think you are. You’re almost too willing to forgive.” He smiled, moving his hand back down to Draco’s jaw, letting his fingers dance over the bone.

“hmf.” Draco laughed. “Me… too willing to forgive? You must be mistaken.”

Harry stared down into Draco’s eyes for a second too long, almost as if he had drowned in them.

“Would you forgive me if I did something really, really stupid?” Harry asked, pausing the movement of his fingertips.

“like what?”

His eyes shot down to Draco’s lips and then back up again. His tongue wetted his own.

“Can I kiss you?”

Draco gasped, his lips parting in shock, his heart rate skyrocketed, and he was sure Harry could feel it this close to him. He’d forgotten how to speak.

“Please?”

Draco voice box suddenly kicked back in and he remembered how to talk.

“Yes.”

Harry’s hand gripped onto Draco’s jaw tighter as he pushed his head forward, joining their lips in a soft, tender kiss. It was so soft that Draco could hardly feel the lips against his own until they started moving.

It felt like cloud nine, the small exhale of breath from Harry’s nose tickling Draco’s face as their lips worked silently against one another. It suddenly hit Draco that he was kissing a man, for the first time in his life, and that this wasn’t just any man. This was _Harry Potter_.

Draco felt himself gasp at the thought.

He was kissing _Harry Potter! The boy who lived, the chosen one, killer of Voldemort!_ And he _loved_ it!

Harry breathed another sigh against his mouth and slowly pulled away, only by a fraction of an inch.

“Fucking finally.” He whispered, a small laugh echoing out as well.

Draco suddenly felt awkward. What was he meant to do now? Should he thank Harry? Should he kiss him again? Are they meant to hug?

Luckily, his train of questions was soon cut off by Harry coming back in for a second kiss, this time with a bit more fervour than the last. He kissed him deep and determined, just like how Draco had always imagined he would. Soon enough, Draco was kissing him back with all the same ardour Harry could’ve wanted. His mouth was warm and hungry, his hands shifting up into Harry’s hair in an instant.

Kissing Harry was like lighting a fuse. It felt like there was no way back. No way to dampen or lighten the heat. It made him pant against Harry, endlessly searching. It felt like years of frustration slipping away, settling into nothing more than an intense want in the pit of Draco’s stomach.

When one of Draco’s hands slipped down from Harry’s hair onto the hem of his waistband, Harry paused the kiss, pulling away for the second time. Draco followed his lips as they left, trying to catch them again, whimpering once they were out of reach. But once Harry’s face was a solid few inches away, Draco with overwhelmed with the embarrassment of how needy he must’ve seemed, one hand threaded in Harry’s hair, the other armed with a thumb that was daintily tugging at the waistband of Harry’s jeans.

But the embarrassment faded slightly when Draco saw the soft smile settled on Harry’s red, aggravated lips.

“Was that okay?” He asked, tugging Malfoy’s body in slightly closer to his, their clothed chests pressing together, from collars to hips.

Draco whimpered a mumbled “mmmhmmm” as response, hardly trusting his own voice box to work.

“See, just like I said. You are far to forgiving.” He smiled, the hand resting on Draco’s lower back drawing small circles into the fabric.

“There was nothing to forgive.” Draco grinned back, surprised at the gruff quality in his voice.

Harry’s eyes flicked down to their joined chests.

“Maybe we should head home.” He offered, tightening his grip around Draco. “I can’t imagine the party is going to be much fun after that.”

It came as a slap to Draco’s face, in the heat of the moment, he’d completely forgotten about the events that lead up to them kissing in the kitchen.

“And I think I know something far more fun we could be doing at home.”

Draco blushed at the thought. Was he really going to do this with Harry? His heart filled with excitement instead of the cold it had felt just a second ago. There was no hiding anymore.

Draco nodded.

“I think I’d like that.”

Harry took a step away from Draco and offered his hand forward for him to take. “The floo is only a few footsteps away.”

Draco accepted his hand and followed him through to the floo. He didn’t care about the family he’d left in the livingroom without an answer, or the presents discarded on the floor, he was sure they’d figure out that Harry and Draco had decided to leave anyways.

As soon as the two boys stepped out of the floo into their own apartment, Harry was back on Draco like wildfire, pushing him against the wall next to the fireplace.

His lips crashed back against Draco’s, this time filling him with all the tension of the past two years, radiating from Harry’s body like waves. It made his head spin.

Harry’s stubble was scraping across Draco’s face, his breath coming in short, rapid bursts. His hands were all over Draco, pushing him against the wall, running along his shoulder and down to his hips, pinching at his sides, and the best part of it was how Draco willingly accepted the touches. Even arching into a few of them.

It was rough and messy and perfect.

When Harry’s fingertips brushed over one of Malfoy’s perked nipples over the thin fabric of his shirt, a hungry noise fell from Malfoy’s lips, and then his hands were threaded back into the waistband of Harry’s pants. He half-heartedly began to tug, but he had no chance of getting them down with Harry’s belt buckle still tightly wound around them. So Harry took over, swatted Draco’s hands away and worked the belt loose from his hips.

His cock ached, impossible to ignore, pressing heavily against his flies to get free. He groaned, long and filled with need when Draco’s hands haphazardly unzipped him and stroked a small line against his aching erection.

“Bedroom.” Harry murmured, pulling away from Draco long enough to let his jeans drop to the floor with a soft thud. Draco nodded his head in agreement with a soft whine.

As they speed walked over to Harry’s room, both of them were clumsily attempting to remove their own clothes, resulting in Harry’s jumper being chucked somewhere in the distance and Draco undoing half of the buttons on his shirt. By the time they were through to Harry’s room, Draco was only in underwear and a half-undone shirt whilst Harry was left bare in his pants.

Draco couldn’t believe this was going to be his first time with a man, here with Harry Potter, in their small apartment complex, on a bed that had definitely been well worn, but it was all Draco had ever wanted. It was perfect.

His fingers were shaking as they grasped onto Harry’s shoulders, rubbing the muscles back and forth in little circles, admiring the scarred flesh.

Draco stared and stared. Harry shirtless was a breath taking thing : tan, smooth skin covering defined angles and powerful muscles.

And then Harry was back onto him, grasping his jaw and tugging the white shirt from his shoulders before tugging on the waistband of his pants. Harry quickly stripped off the remaining fabric covering Malfoy, leaving him bare and exposed, his cock jutting up to his stomach in a way in hadn’t since his school days.

Malfoy hadn’t even noticed that at some point Harry had discarded his own underwear, now mirroring Draco’s state of undress and staring back at him with the same amount of almost frightening arousal.

It was too much to take in. He looked just how Draco had remembered, but something about having Harry willingly naked in front of him made it a thousand times hotter. Draco thought he might come solely from touching Harry, and oh merlin did he want to touch Harry. His back itched with the need to feel his warm skin beneath the tips of his fingers. His hand wished to feel the weight of Harry’s dark, long cock in his hands, he wanted to breathe Harry in, never let him go and stay with him in this state forever.

Harry’s eyes ran up and down Malfoy’s body, but he didn’t feel the need to shy away from his gaze.

“Get on the bed.” Harry commanded, waiting a second while Draco moved to sit down on the soft bed sheets. Harry watched from his standing position, the jut of his dick almost threatening from Draco’s new angle. “Lie down.”

Draco followed Harry’s instructions, placing his head down onto the pillows against the head board.

Malfoy’s cock was flushed and pink and very, very hard. It strained up towards the ceiling, standing so tall that Draco almost had the nerve to feel embarrassed.

After a seconds wait, Harry joined him on the bed, bending down until he laid on top of Malfoy in a plank position, his knees wrapped around Draco’s legs, mouth only a hairs width from Draco’s. In this position it suddenly struck Draco how dark the room was, but that thought was soon dropped when Harry’s lips connected with his jaw bone, sucking and biting and twirling the skin with his tongue.

Draco’s breath sped up, turning into a pant as Harry’s lips moved lower, to Draco’s neck, then collar, the chest before settling on his nipples.

It was always Draco’s Achilles heel, he knew his nipples were far more sensitive than normal people’s.

So, when Harry’s lips wrapped around the stained flesh, Draco’s chest arched towards him accompanied by a long whimper. Everything about the image of Harry circling his tongue around the nipple over and over again was erotic, it was almost as pleasurable as the sensation itself. _Almost_.

“Harry.” Draco whispered when Harry’s fingers occupied themselves with flicking Draco’s other pert nipple. The feeling was a strange one, almost too powerful as it sent threads of electricity right down to his groin. “Please.”

At his words, one of Harry’s hands moved down to cup Draco’s balls, cradling them between his fingertips and massaging them at an excruciating pace. Harry’s mouth dropped lower again, trailing kisses down Draco’s midriff until his face was sat just above Draco’s hip bones.

Harry’s hand occasionally flicked down to Draco’s hole, obviously testing the waters for how comfortable he felt with the idea. When Harry’s fingers brushed down to Draco’s arsehole slightly harder, Draco quickly arched up his back, but it seemed that Harry mistook his pleasure for a sign of unease.

“Is this okay?” He asked, lowering his head frustratingly close to Draco’s erection. His pink, aggravated, wet lips looked so appetising that Draco was half tempted to thrust up into them.

“Yes. It’s more than okay.”

Harry smiled, and the next time he lowered his fingers, he flicked his tongue out to taste the tip of Draco’s dick, collecting a drop of precum on the end. Draco felt a long whine in his throat when Harry repeated the motion again, this time keeping his fingers on Draco’s hole and lowering his lips to the crown of his cock.

“Merlin, Harry.” Draco murmured, pushing back slightly against the fingertips, which were now carelessly circling Draco’s puckered entrance. Harry bobbed his head down lower before slowly lifting back up – inch by inch – until his lips left Malfoy with a soft ‘pop’. At the loss of contact, Draco was split between thrusting back up into his lips or pushing down against Harry’s fingers.

“You haven’t ever been with a man before, have you?” Harry asked, his voice almost a whole octave lower than when he last spoke. Draco wanted to drown in the sultry smoothness of his bedroom voice.

“No.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed as he shuffled back on the bed further. Draco couldn’t ignore the heat in his gaze now that he had an unobstructed view of his fingers circling Draco’s arse.

“Are you okay with this?”

“Of course I am! I’m not some blushing virgin!”

Whilst Harry’s concern was annoying, it warmed Draco with endearment. He didn’t want to do anything wrong. 

“Well, you are, kind of. You haven’t done this before and you have been blushing a hell of a lot.” Harry commented, sniggering, finally meeting Draco’s eyes again.

“Shut up.”

Harry chuckled this time, before his face fell focused. Draco felt one of his fingers push against his entrance, putting pressure on the skin, not entering it just yet.

“It might hurt a bit. It normally does the first time.”

“Well good thing it’s not the first time then.”

Draco suddenly realised what his admission meant. He’d just admitted that he’d put his own fingers up his arse before. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid Malfoy!_

“What?” Harry paused his movements, confusion overtaking his face. “But I thought you hadn’t been with a man before?”

“I haven’t”

“But then how have you- oh.” The realisation ran over Harry’s face. “You mean you’ve… fingered yourself before?”

Draco nodded.

Harry’s eyes turned stunned, looking down at his fingers on Draco’s entrance, then back up to his eyes, then back down before gulping.

“Do you realise how hot that is?”

Draco shrugged.

Harry’s gaze was still entranced with amazement.

“That is also very gay, why did you think you were straight for so long?”

Draco shrugged again. “Maybe I am straight, Harry.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, before flopping open and closed like a fish.

“You’re not serio-“

“Of course I’m not serious, Harry.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Meanwhile, I was expecting to have your cock in my arse by this point so can we leave the small talk for later.”

Draco was almost shocked at the outburst. _Almost_. In reality he knew that his filter always threw itself out of an eight story building around Harry. Especially around a completely naked Harry.

“Oh right-“ Harry looked back down, before removing his fingers from Draco. Draco let out a grunt of annoyance.

“What the fuck-“

“No.” Harry interrupted, lifting his finger to shush Draco. “Show me.”

“What?”

“I said, show me.”

“Show you what?”

“I want to see you finger yourself.”

“you want me to what?!”

“You know what I said.”

“Why?!!” Draco strained his words, still shocked at Harry’s ask. Although he knew exactly why Harry wanted to see it, because evem the thought of Harry watching him pleasure himself sent erotic shivers down his spine.

Harry had no response, instead choosing to lean back and lift his hands up to his head.

Draco spluttered in disbelief, there was no way Harry was going to make him do this.

But there definitely was. Harry had a spark in his eye, one of challenge, he wasn’t going to back out of this anytime soon. It was just like when they were school boys and Harry just knew he was going to catch the snitch and no matter how hard Draco tried to catch it, he would never beat Harry to it.

Draco sighed but soon, the heat pooling his stomach was too much and he trailed his hands down to the base of his cock, giving it an obligatory stroke before settling his hands down low to his arsehole. He bent his knees, pulling them up close to him.

He heard Harry snort when he whispered a lubrication charm.

“Hey!” Draco flushed, as if he wasn’t feeling enough shame and arousal already.

“Sorry, it’s just… You do this a lot, don’t you?”

Draco glared and punctuated his anger by thrusting one lubricated finger up into himself until it was pushed into the first knuckle. Harry’s eyes immediately ran away from Draco’s face to stare at his fingers.

Draco slowly began thrusting the finger in and out of him – in and out, in and out – until he felt the ring of muscle loosen enough to push a second finger inside. Now he could really feel the intrusion, pushing up into him, and when he bent his fingers, expertly hitting his prostate without effort, he arched up away from the covers. Soon enough, he was thrusting his own body against his fingers, rocking his hips against them, meeting each thrust, obscene wet sounds filled the room with every hit, until he finally felt stretched enough to push his third finger in.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Draco.” Harry cursed, before bending down against Draco until his own face was level to Draco’s arsehole, his eyes watching from an inch away.

After a particularly strong hit to his prostate, Draco chucked his head back and closed his eyes. Something about doing this in front of Harry made the feeling ten times more pleasurable than normal. Draco had gotten into the groove of his thrusts, so he was hit with surprise when he felt the warm, strong sensation of Harry’s tongue flicker against his hole.

“Oh Merlin, what are you-“ Draco paused his fingers.

“No, carry on.”

Draco obliged and continued the movement of his fingers, this time looking down at Harry when his tongue joined the three to rub against the top of them. His tongue was wet and made his fingers slip in and out of him easier than before. Draco gasped again when he felt the muscle get tangled in with his fingers and enter Draco now loose hole alongside them.

Now that Harry was inside, he grabbed Draco’s wrist and pulled the fingers out, deciding to let his tongue do all the work without obstruction. He thrust himself deep into Draco, rolling and curling his tongue until his mouth pressed up against Draco’s arse. Draco wreathed against him, almost pulling away from the intense pleasure.

But the feeling soon subsided when Harry pulled all the way out and began circling the outside with his tongue. Draco couldn’t bear it any longer, his stomach was screaming with want, he needed to be filled with something, anything.

“Harry, please.” He begged, chucking his hands into Harry’s hair and tugging on the black strands.

Harry continued the torture him with his mouth, going up to lick Draco’s balls then back down, then up again and back down. Draco pulled on his head stronger, unable to resist the need to squeeze his legs closed around Harry’s head, pressing his thighs against his ears. Harry moved his hands to place a strong grip on Draco’s thighs, digging into the muscle, and spread them open again.

“Please.”

This time Harry listened and pulled away, his lips were shiny with saliva and his eyes had a feral look about them.

“Okay.”

He lifted his body up and over Draco, perching his hips between the spread legs and resting his head just above Draco’s. He stared down for a moment, his green eyes piercing.

“You’re perfect, Draco.” Harry whispered, pushing his lips down to meet Draco’s, still wet with saliva. Now when Draco kissed Harry, it didn’t taste as much like Harry, it tasted like something new. A musky taste, almost metallic in flavour. It hit Draco that in that moment, he was tasting himself on Harry’s tongue, he should be disgusted, he really should, but instead his hands found themselves gripping onto the strong muscles of Harry’s arse.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Harry asked, pulling away from Draco and looking at him in a way that made him want to melt.

“Yes.”

Harry looked down between their bodies for a moment and Draco felt the tip of his erection align with his entrance. Draco gripped his arms, felt the strength of them, Harry’s whole body was vibrating with tension, and then he pushed forward, and Draco’s mouth dropped when he felt the stretch. The two let out matching groans when the head submerged itself through the tight ring of muscle.

Then Harry pushed deeper, and deeper again, and once he was fully rested inside Draco, he let out a deep exhale of breath.

“Merlin’s fucking tits.”

Draco now realised that he’d never had something quite so large inside him before, the twinge of pain that came in blended with the pleasurable stretch was a surprise. Harry must’ve noticed his discomfort, as his lips came down to kiss Draco’s closed eyelids.

“You’re doing so well. So well…”

Draco felt so full. Merlin… Harry was so deep inside him and Draco wasn’t sure he could cope with the sensation. It wasn’t that it hurt, exactly. It’s just that nothing – not even shoving his fingers up his arse – could prepare him for the feeling of letting another man do something so shockingly intimate to him. He felt so vulnerable that it almost overwhelmed him.

Harry stayed so still, his body straining with the effort of not moving. His eyes were now closed and he was biting his bottom lip, a pained look on his face and fast breaths falling from his lips.

After a few seconds, Draco felt his body give way to the intrusion, relaxing around Harry, almost as if he wanted to pull him in further.

“Move.” Draco commanded, shuffling his legs so that his heels dug into the back of Harry’s arse. Harry gave a grunt of approval and then slowly began to pull back out, before pushing back in at the same excruciating pace. “Faster.”

Harry obliged and exchanged the deep, slow thrusts for a new shallow speed, which filled the room with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Draco’s mouth fell open, his arms gripping on to Harry’s with a renewed force. Without the pillows behind his head, he probably would’ve hit the headboard with the push of each thrust.

“Look at me.”

Draco opened his eyes to meet Harry’s, looking at the sweat beading on his brow and the red glow covering his features. His thrusts paused for a second so that he could pick up one of Draco’s legs and chuck it over his shoulder.

Now when Harry pushed in, he somehow managed to reach even deeper into Malfoy’s body. This time Draco couldn’t contain his moans. His whole life he had thought that pornstars were just faking how good sex was. But now, with Harry’s dick deep inside him, he felt himself turn into a moaning mess beneath him.

“Merlin Harry. Harry!”

“Does it feel good?”

“What do you fucking think?”

At this Harry’s thrusts sped up even faster, rippling Draco’s skin explicitly with every slap. His mouth dropped even further and he was faintly aware that he was moaning a sting of intangible noises mixed with “fuckHarryfuckfuckfuckfuck”.

Draco felt a knot begin to tie low down in his belly, every thrust tying another thread around the knot, building it and building it until his legs squeezed around Harry, pulling him closer down to Draco.

“I’m gonna cum!” Harry announced, now moving his fist down to wrap around Draco’s erection, rubbing up and down in time with each thrust. The pleasure wracked down deep into Draco’s bones, he felt like he could drown in it, and then, when he was sure he was about to die, the bundle of sensations tipped over the edge, all untangling to pull taught with a squirt of Draco’s orgasm. Draco practically screamed as streams of white spurted from the tip of his cock, and when his arse tugged tight against Harry, he heard Harry come with a shout inside of him.

Draco let Harry ride out the rest of his orgasm, before he pulled out of Draco and collapsed down on the bed next to him. His breath was erratic, sweat covering every inch of his body, his hair slowly becoming wet at the roots.

The two lied still, staring up at the ceiling, Draco’s legs were shaking, weak in a post-orgasmic fuzz.

The silence of the room was a comforting hug, and Draco almost felt surprised that even in an unaroused state, his body missed the feeling of being full. _Which reminded him_. He looked a _state_. His own body was covered in sweat, his paper-thin skin already forming bruises, and when he shuffled around slightly, he felt the unappetising slosh of Harry’s cum move inside of him. He wrinkled his nose.

Harry chuckled.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get rid of that.”

Harry turned around to his bedside table where his wand lay, he pointed it to Draco’s body and half-heartedly mumbled a spell. Draco felt clean in an instant. Harry slumped the wand back on the bedside and turned on his side to face Draco, lifting his head up on a bent arm.

“So…” Harry began, a half-smile on his lips. His eyes were half-lidded and his hair a state, he looked so goofy that Draco couldn’t hold back his laugh. “I’ve got to say, I really didn’t expect the evening to end like this.” Draco snorted.

“You don’t say. Did it not meet your expectations of this Saturday night?”

“Oh, it far surpassed anything that we ever could’ve done at the Weasley’s.” Harry morphed his body closer to Draco’s, wrapping one arm around his chest and entangling his legs with Draco’s.

“Even Christmas dinner?”

“Even Christmas dinner.”

“Oh wow. I didn’t know I was that good.”

Harry gripped Draco’s chin with his free hand and turned his face towards him, so that their eyes were closely locked.

“You were perfect.” Harry leant forward and pressed his lips to Draco in a loving peck that made Draco’s heart sore. “For a virgin.”

Malfoy’s mouth spluttered before he saw the amused grin on Harry’s lips, “Shut up!” He moved his hand to slap Harry’s arm.

“Hey! Play nice!” Harry flinched away for a second before wrapping his arms back around Draco once again. “Now go to bed.”

“Go to bed?”

“Yes.”

“Why? It’s only seven pm, surely” Draco could feel Harry roll his eyes.

“Because otherwise, you won’t have enough energy for round two in the morning.”

“Oh.” Draco blushed. Harry snuggled back into Draco. “Are we not going to get under the covers?”

“If you want to.”

“This house hits temperatures colder than the arctic at night, of course I want to.”

They both shuffled around before neatly tucking themselves inside the bed and snuggling up together so that Draco’s back was pressed air tight to Harry’s chest, a warm bubble forming around them under the covers.

“Good night.” Harry muttered, pressing a final peck to the slightly curled hair at the base of Draco’s neck.

“Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We reach the last chapter at the next update.
> 
> So far, I'm quite liking this fic, really gives me wholesome vibes :D 
> 
> What do you guys think?


	5. How Eggscellent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end dun dun DUN

Draco stirred awake to the salty, crisp scent of bacon.

His mouth-watered, despite the pain his eyes felt from being attacked by the sun rays streaming through the curtains. He breathed the scent in deeper, he hadn’t woken up to well cooked food for the past two years.

He rolled around in bed, confused when his sleek bedsheets were a ghastly Gryffindor colour. He wrinkled his nose in distaste before remembering who’s bed he was in.

Oh Merlin.

_Oh Merlin!_

Harry had slept with Draco, _Draco_ had slept with _Harry._

_Oh Merlin!_

A shit-eating grin expanded across his face. Harry and him had slept together? Did that mean they were a thing now? _Oh My God they were definitely a thing!_ Maybe _… Maybe not._

Draco shrugged before rolling out of bed, mildly surprised when his legs didn’t get caught in the bedsheets like they did every morning. Perhaps Harry’s functional bedsheets were superior to Draco’s flashy silk. He glanced down at the red once again _. Actually, he changed his mind,_ his uncomfortable but stylish bed was far more preferable.

A new wave of sweetness came rushing through the door, the smell of crispy bacon suddenly replaced with the sweet scent of cake.

_What on Earth was that?_

Draco pushed himself away from the bed to the door, jarring it open just enough to look out.

In the distance, he saw Harry stood in front of the cooker, a saucepan in his hand, and behind him an array of breakfast foods on the table.

“What in the name of Merlin-”

He opened the door completely and took a step out into the open. _His eyes weren’t deceiving him then._ Harry was still stood in the kitchen cooking what appeared to be a perfectly appetising breakfast.

Draco tiptoed closer to the table, not wanting to make Harry aware of his presence. He could hear the sound of satisfied humming coming from Harry as he pushed two eggs around the pan. Two _perfectly cooked eggs._

Draco stood in front of their dinner table and looked over it. There were stacks of pastries on one side, filled with custard and cream. There was one large pot of coffee in the centre of the table and a pile of pancakes, topped with butter and syrup next to it. He glanced up to where Harry stood to see that next to the Gryffindor were two plates filled with hash browns, beans, scrambled eggs, sausages, toast, tomatoes, bacon and finally, the fried eggs that Harry gracefully placed on top.

“Where’s Harry and what have you done with him?” Draco mused, unable to control his gaping expression. Harry turned around, a surprised smile on his lips as he waved the spatula in Draco’s direction.

“Well you were quiet.” Harry turned back around to place the two stacked plates on the dinner table, in front of their respective seats.

“What can I say, I’m a quiet person.”

“I think that, after last night, I have definitive proof that you are not quiet.”

Draco blushed, feeling his ear tips redden.

“Shut up, Potter.” Harry pretended to gape, over dramatically dropping his jaw.

“Surely we aren’t going to go back to childish nicknames?”

“It’s not a nickname, your name is literally Potter.”

“Okay then Malfoy.”

Draco rolled his eyes, pulling his chair out and sitting down in front of the well-prepared breakfast. He had to say he was impressed, everything looked perfectly cooked and smelt obscenely delicious.

Draco experimentally poked the bacon with his fork.

“What? Do you not trust my cooking?” Harry asked, his eyes squinting with a soft grin.

“Can you blame me?”

“I suppose not.”

Draco lifted a fork full of the food to his mouth, his eyes immediately widening, he felt like dancing it tasted so good. Explosions of saltiness that were immediately balanced by the crispy, overindulgent oil flavour.

“Oh My God, Harry!” Draco exclaimed, shovelling a second forkful into his mouth in a most uncivilised manner. He hadn’t realised quite how hungry he’d felt. “Where did you get all this? Who made it?”

Draco knew it was a stupid question, he had seen Harry cooking it himself, but he couldn’t believe it. This was the man who, just a few days ago, had tried to fry an egg in a bowl of oil, and had set off the fire alarm at least three times a week for the past two years, without fail.

“How rude! Is it not completely obvious that I made it all!” Harry announced, putting his hand flamboyantly on his chest. “Well, everything apart from the pastries, I ran downstairs to your café to get them.”

Draco looked around at all the food again.

“You really made this?”

“Yep.”

“But I thought you couldn’t cook?” Harry raised his eyebrows, lips slightly parting.

“Don’t tell me you genuinely thought I was that bad of a cook, Draco.”

“What?”

Harry rolled his eyes with a laugh, before gulping down his own helping of bacon.

“I was obviously faking it.”

“You were faking it!”

“Obviously.” He punctuated his words with a particularly vigorous chew.

“But why?” Draco stared at him incredulously.

“How else was I meant to get your attention?”

“We literally live together, Harry.”

“So?”

“So, I see you every single day.”

“Maybe… But I liked watching you get jealous about my dates.”

Draco spluttered, forking at his scrambled eggs.

“First of all, I do not get jealous, secondly, that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Harry shrugged.

“You’ve really been able to cook this entire time?”

“Draco, I was raised making muggles breakfast every morning for practically eleven years. Of course I know how to cook.”

Draco frowned at his plate.

“So you woke everyone in this apartment complex up three times a week to a fire alarm, almost burnt down the flat multiple times, wasted a tonne of food and scared away hundreds of your dates just to get my attention?”

Harry nodded.

“Merlin.”

“It worked though, right?”

“I suppose so.”

“Exactly.”

Harry smiled at his food and carried on eating, pleased with his cooking attempt.

“You confuse me, Harry.”

“Shut up and eat your eggs.”

It didn’t take Draco long to clear his plate, gulp down two pancakes and make a start on the pastries. He didn’t even want to imagine how many calories he had just consumed and how long he was going to have to work out tonight to burn it off.

“You really are something special.” Harry announced, watching Draco with a strange glimmer in his eye.

Draco looked up in question.

“How you’ve managed to convince yourself that I’ve never had any feelings for you, despite me using every possible trick in the book to make a move. For two years.”

“It wasn’t that obvious.”

“Trust me, Draco. It was.”

Draco took another bite of his pastry before placing it back down on his plate and gulping.

“So… If you’ve made me breakfast… Does that make me your date?” Draco’s heart was pumping hard, he could hear the blood shooting through his ears.

“I would hope so.” Harry looked just as nervous as Draco, worriedly squeezing his lip between his thumb and forefinger. “As long as you don’t run away screaming afterwards.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll stay right here.”

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic is finished and I hope you have enjoyed :DDD
> 
> Leave comments below if you can, I like to read them, even if they're just short.
> 
> I'm trying to think of another AU to write, I don't know what length I want to write but I imagine any new fics I write will be on the shorter side. :)
> 
> Byeee :D


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